


Ashes to ashes

by darkstark



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Defeat, F/M, Mild Sexual Content, perseverance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 12:17:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4960300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkstark/pseuds/darkstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been said he would see the country burn if he could be king of the ashes. And now there were ashes everywhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ashes to ashes

It had been said he would see the country burn if he could be king of the ashes. And now there were ashes everywhere, stirred by the rising wind, bringing tears in their eyes and bitterness in their mouths. And they had lost, all was lost.

She is still on her knees among the ruins of their endeavours, too weak from defeat to stand on her feet. The sky is red and grey and she cannot tell if it is mournful or victorious. She can see him standing a few meters away, a dark silhouette rooted on the scorched earth. His back is turned to her and she cannot see his face, but she can tell from the slumped shoulders and limp arms that he is as defeated as she is. She chokes on the injustice of it all. They had tried so _hard_ , they had been so _meticulous_.

She remains where she is, transfixed by the sight of his figure, expecting him to do something, anything. But he won’t scream and he won’t cry in rage, and she does not know what to make of his silence. He remains immobile and distant, his thoughts and feelings a mystery to her once again. But eventually she understands that it must be the shock that keeps him in this state. This is not the outcome he had calculated, the result for which he had risked so much. He had always played the game to win and loss had never been considered.

Fear grips her heart like an ice-cold hand and the lump in her throat is too painful to even let her swallow. Is this the end? And if it is, what will happen to her, to him, to them? 

The wind is stronger now, the ashes dancing wildly around and her cloak flapping violently on her body. The dark figure stands still and she tries to reconcile herself with the idea of a world where he does not have a plan, where he is not five steps ahead, but ten behind. She starts to think that this is it for him, that he will collapse any minute now, but suddenly his back straightens, his arms stiffen, and finally he turns and makes his way to her.

She is still on the ground and despite his small frame he looms over her, but she cannot discern the meaning of his expression. She can see no fear, no anger, no sorrow, not even some disappointment. She thinks she can see resolve in his grey-green eyes, but for what she doesn’t know. Perhaps he doesn't either.

When he offers his hand she understands what it means, and a part of her is relieved to see that not all of him is lost in this mess. He needs her help, but he won’t ask for it. He will only offer to accept it.

For a brief moment she hesitates. What if she refused? What if she left and made her own way? She buries the thought as quickly as it comes, ashamed at how ungrateful this would be. She owed everything to him, everything she had become and all she had achieved. It had all started in a place much like this, where she had little worth and even less promise. But he had helped her all the same, had put his faith in her. And now it was her turn to do the same, to carry him up the ladder as he had carried her and give him in return everything he had given to her. She takes his hand now and holds it tightly as he helps her stand up and finally they’re on the same level. After all, this game of glory and gore was all she knows now.

If it had been any other time, any other place, they might have smiled to each other. But to do so here, on this earth drenched with the blood of countless fallen pawns would be a surrender to madness, and they are not mad, not yet. They have work to do. They hold on each other tightly as they make their way through the aftermath of their ambition. The carrion crows are circling the battlefield now, their dark wings finally giving the sky its necessary funereal colours. They are not creatures of patience, and soon they are feasting on the corpses of those who died for a senseless cause, a fabricated lie. Soon the vultures will tear the flesh away and the bones will be uncovered, white, dry, imperious. But even this beauty of theirs, unexpected and reverential as it is, will be lost when the sky starts weeping its tears of acid.

 _It's not our bones, though,_ she thinks and it is an oddly calming thought. 

******

For a few days they just exist. They grasp at the fact of life and try to convince themselves that this on and of itself should suffice, that it will do as a starting point. He doesn't know if she really believes this, or if she is trying to put on a good show for his sake. She is being good to him, so _good_ , and for the first time in his life he has an example of kindness being repaid with kindness. It is so alien a concept that it almost looks wrong in his eyes.

He has been here before, in this place where everything is lost and the future doesn't even exist in dreams. But it has been so long since he had nothing, since things didn't go his way, and it is hard to try and remember how not to despair at the face of utter and complete failure. He cannot dream, because he dared to make all his dreams reality and they only turned to ashes, burned by the dreams of his foes. He has no more left. 

And so she dreams for him. Hers are dreams of beauty and ambition, even more than his had been. Her blue eyes speak of triumphs to come, and her clean hands -still clean, always clean- are steady and eager to bring death. Her red hair is rivers of blood that will be shed in the name of their desires. When she kisses him he can taste the poison of lies she plans to feed their enemies under all the sweetness of her mouth. When she holds his hand with her soft hand, it is to guide it in the stirring of chaos and destruction. And when she whispers in his ear, it is to remind him of the lessons he once taught her.

He is truly in awe now. For all the education he had given her, he had never expected her to be his equal in such a way. But he is not in fear. _She_ will never be the enemy. 

A night finally comes when he feels strong enough to climb the ladder of chaos once again. He feels elated, and when he pulls her in his arms in celebration, he can see that she is too. He can taste her excitement in her hungry kisses, and it is an infectious thing, making his skin catch fire and his breathing uneven. There is a sudden urgency in the act now that they both realise how much they need each other, how two hearts beating as one can make the climb so much easier, so much more destructive. They both see it now, that the game is not over until you win or die, and they are more alive now than they have ever been. He knows it's true when he is inside her, her inviting darkness a promise of faithfulness and her warmth a fire that is giving him life while giving everyone else the generous gift of death. Her eyes close as she starts rocking herself on him, dreams of power and triumph running behind her eyelids. His eyes stay wide open, watching her as she rises and falls again on him, crashing like waves on a shore, and with each rise and fall he can see kingdoms rising and falling too, lost at the mercy of their ambition. He holds her tight and they finally become one; one heart beating faster at the sound of mayhem, one soul indifferent to damnation, one mind with a single goal, climbing higher and higher, through bloodshed and ashes and perseverance, up the ladder that never ends.

The climb is all there is. And in the end, they shall prevail.

**Author's Note:**

> This is slightly different than my other stuff, but sometimes it's fun to write more abstract things and just toy with words. Plus I'm always sold if I can avoid dialogue altogether, the bane of my existence. Anyway, I hope you liked it! :)


End file.
